Warriors
by Fighterr
Summary: When a murderer begins to target Death Eaters, the Wizarding World spins out of control. It's up to Dumbledore, and the rest of the Order to act and train the vengeful. But, can they control the Warrior? Can the Warrior begin to heal, or will all be lost to the rising of the Dark Lord? Bad at summaries, please check it out! During OOTP
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! This is my first HP fanfic, and I hope you all enjoy it. I am very excited about it. I plan to update two-three times a week, and would love your input. Please R/R! I definitely own Harry Potter. ***sarcastic eye roll* **Only a few original characters, and those will probably be the names you don't recognize.

Bloody bodies littered the floor of the elevator in the muggle hotel. There were five men, all Death Eaters, which lay unmoving. Their throats had been cut with a sharp blade, spilling both blood and life. Their wands lay snapped in half beside them. Any muggle that saw them would have been severely confused and horrified, which is why the only living human in the elevator stopped at the seventh floor, and then took out her wand to start a fire. She glanced upwards at the elevator cables, and with a flick of her wrist, she cut them all. The elevator promptly fell and crashed, and the girl could hear the panicked cries of the muggles in the lobby. She smirked, walking to the hallway window. Like a shadow, she disappeared into the night, satisfied. For now.

Dumbledore sighed, setting his hands in head. The wizarding world was already in turmoil, the brutal murders of Death Eaters would only increase tensions. Within the past month, there had been 20 murders, all in the same way. Witnesses would retell the same story- a woman would come in and try and seduce and entice the said Death Eaters, and then both would disappear, only the men would be found with their throats slit. The description of the woman changed every time- white, black, Chinese, redhead, blonde, and brunette. Nothing was consistent, which was incredibly frustrating to the Ministry. Only did Dumbledore know who could possibly be behind this. And although he didn't particularly care for the dead, he knew he had to put a handle on it. On her. He sighed once more before grabbing his cloak and apparating outside of Grimmauld Place.

"Albus," Molly Weasley busied herself with fixing him a cup of tea, as the youth of the house began creeping into the stairway. "Any plans?''

"What would life be with a good plan, Molly?" He remarked, looking much older than he normally did. "I have one, yes. But if it will be successful, that is life's true trial."

Harry stuck his head into the room at the mention of trial.

"Professor, I wanted to talk to you about the trial-"

"Professor," Hermione jumped in. "What are you going to do about the mur-"

"Is it true that it's a band of vengeful vampires?" Ron added.

"Was it you?" Fred asked.

"Nah, signs point to Snapey-Wapey," Added George.

"Seems a bit… Rapey," Fred added, eyes flashing.

"I cannot answer any of your questions, as I do not know the answers. Please continue to ignore the newspaper and it's news of the murdeSr. They are, how you say, a load of bollocks." Dumbledore remarked. They guffawed. "Molly, there will be a guest joining us. Two actually, if tonight goes well. I believe you are friends with one of them? A Mr. Oliver Wood?"

The group buzzed with excitement.

"Wood was a hard captain, but I didn't peg him for a murderer," George said.

"I heard it was a knife, not a bloody broom bludgeoning." Fred added.

"I'm afraid Mr. Wood is not behind the deaths," Albus said. The group quieted, eagerly waiting for news. "He has joined the Order after the murder of his parents, and is need of a safe house for a few months. Although you all return to Hogwarts within the week, I trust that you will make him welcome."

The group nodded, but Molly still wrung her hands. They exited, but did not realize that Fred and George were using the Expendable Ear to catch the end of the conversation.

"Albus," Molly whispered. The twins gathered around the Ear. "Have you really found the culprit?"

He nodded silently.

"Who is he? Where is he?"

"I can't release any information. But, I will be retrieving her shortly. I must go," He started out the door. "Thank you for the tea. Please pass on to the rest of the others that we will have two guests. Remus is to bring Wood tomorrow."

Fred and George slowly retracted the Expendable Ear. They looked at each other in excitement. They knew one thing- the Death Eater Destroyer was a girl.


	2. Chapter 2

A single footstep resounded in the dense and silent forest. She awoke at the sound, and pulled her legs to her chest, searching the area from her perch in the tree. The rope around her waist kept her stable, but she sacrificed the safety as she slowly untied herself. A flash of light hair at the base of her tree stopped her breathing. Slowly, she pulled her knives out from her boot.

"Now, now," A voice boomed amongst the trees. She froze. "Before you go throwing your knives at me, Anya, please do come down and talk for just a moment. If you still want to kill me afterwards, I am all yours."

Anya stayed frozen in the air. How did he know her name?

"I am not a Death Eater, child. I was an ally of your parents." He boomed once more. "Parents, that if I am not mistaken, were murdered by the Dark Lord only a few weeks ago."

Anya didn't move, but put away one of her knives.

"My name is Albus, Albus Dumbledore. I met you when you were very little, Anya. I came to the Council Meeting, when they elected your father as the Chief."

Anya remembered the man, the man with the flowing beard and strange robes. She scampered down the giant tree to where she was only a few feet above him. Dumbledore smiled warmly.

"You have gotten yourself into trouble lately, haven't you?" He murmured, assessing her.

She looked absolutely animalistic in that moment. Grief and anger had changed her into a vengeful dark creature. Her eyes were glowing maroon in the night, her cheekbones were razorblades due to her lack of eating. She was all muscle, but looked strangely malnourished as well. She wore all black, only the tan skin of her neck and hands showed. Her dark brown hair was messy and matted with blood and dirt and tears. Her mouth showed no remorse or remembrance as she barred her teeth to show sharp fangs. She hissed at him.

"Come, Anya, my child." He began, holding out a wrinkled hand. "You are not well. You have killed many, and this revenge mission has made you into an animal. I promised your parents I would take care of you when they passed."

Anya didn't move, but let out a warning feral growl. Dumbledore sighed, dropping his hand.

"I didn't want to do this, he shook his head, turning around and drawing his wand. He turned around, muttered, and she promptly fell to the grown, unconscious, two knives still in her hands.


	3. Chapter 3

"I dunno 'bout this, professor," Hagrid said, stressed out, pacing. "Never dealt with a real one before. Read about them once, thought they were extinct, I did,"

"Yes, well," Dumbledore began, wishing Hagrid would stop his pacing. "Many were wiped out during the exploration of North America. But, not all. The Comanche tribe kept the gene alive and functioning through their Chief bloodline."

"But a warrior gene, and the mum's a witch, it's just-"

"It's powerful, Hagrid. So powerful that the Dark Lord would want her if he knew she was alive- I need you to help me."

Anya lay in a bathtub in the corner, naked and bloody, being washed by Minerva and a few house elves. Minerva was the only woman Dumbledore trusted enough to help clean her. He didn't even trust to send for Madame Pomfrey, though she could use the medical attention. She was still unconscious.

After a bit, Minerva and the house elves dragged her from the tub, dried her, and then changed her into one of Hagrid's clean, white shirts. It dragged on the floor. For precautions, Dumbledore murmured an incantation that left Anya strapped to a chair before lifting the spell that kept her unconscious. It was only a second before blood curdling screams filled the air.

"Wood!"

"Ollie!

" 'Lo Captain!"

"Oliver!"

A chorus of voices greeted Oliver Wood as he strode through the front door of the hidden house accompanied by Remus Lupin. He carried a worn green bag over his shoulder, and wore a white shirt and jeans. He was absolutely dashing, and his smile shined brightly as he looked at his old classmates.

His muscles had grown a ten fold since leaving Hogwarts. He played professional quidditch for a bit in the Slavic region, and after a particularly rough ending of his career, had gone to visit Billy and raise dragons. He had loved the hard work, but as soon as he found out his parents had been murdered by the Dark Lord, he had returned to the wizarding world and joined the Order. He had dealt with his grief, and now lived to make sure others didn't have to deal with the pain he survived.

"Give the poor boy some room, eh?" Remus cried, as he pushed back the crowd. Molly Weasley came barreling through to envelope Oliver into a choking hug.

"I'm so sorry, darling." She breathed. He hugged her back tightly, being reminded of his own mother. "Welcome home! I have prepared a lunch for you, and some tea, let me just go check on-" She walked away, fussing, not finishing her sentence.

"Hey, Wood," Fred greeted, slapping him on the back. Oliver's firm body didn't so much as move.

"Damn, someone needs to work out," George joked, grabbing his bag. Oliver laughed. "Only joking, mate, don't hit me!"

"Wood!" Harry came striding up to him. "Great to see you!"

"Harry, how are you?" Oliver replied. "Staying out of trouble, I hope!"

"Eh, not exactly, but you know how it is," He replied.

"Oliver Wood," Sirius exclaimed. "It's a pleasure. Sirius Black."

Oliver only hesitated a moment before offering a warm handshake to the wanted man.

"I'm a big fan of yours," Sirius continued. "You were very talented."

"Thank you," Oliver replied, a small grin on his face.

"Alright, mate, enough chit chat, we'll show you your room," George said.

"Yeah, lucky for you," Fred began. "We're right next door until it's time for school."

Oliver smiled, feeling more at home than he had since his parents had been killed. It was going to be an interesting stay in Grimmauld place.


	4. Chapter 4

"Let. Me. Out. Of. This. Fucking. Chair." Anya spit out between her fangs.

"Absolutely, Anya. Once you listen to what we have to say, and you can prove you wont run off into the forest."

Anya paused, knowing that was her plan. She cursed inwardly.

"I don't have to stay here. I don't owe you anything," She said, growling. Minerva looked at her with a mix of fear and disgust.

"We just want to talk, young lady," Minerva said briskly. "Now if you could please shut up, that would be lovely."

Anya looked at the old witch with surprise. She said nothing.

"Anya," Dumbledore began. "I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Minerva McGonagall, here, is the Transfiguration professor. She can help you control the beast that is inside of you. You have let the animal inside of you rule you. You cannot do that anymore. Your mother would not have wanted you to run amuck in a country you aren't familiar with, live in a forest, and kill old men by seducing them."

Anya's face began becoming more human. Her fangs morphed into normal teeth, and her eyes changed from maroon to a glowing gold.

"I didn't seduce them," She defended. "I acted like I was going to and then I killed them."

"Either way, you must stop." Urged Dumbledore. "You can still fight the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. You can join us- join the resistance, and have a family. A family that can be there for you and help you fight."

Anya was silent, still.

"Why don't you try telling us what happened. Tell us how you got to this point," Minerva requested softly. Anya's eyes glazed over and she nodded. She began reliving the horror that was her life.

"I guess I'll start from the very beginning. You probably already know most of this-" Anya began nervously, Dumbledore waved her off. "Could you untie me first?"

Dumbledore nodded, and Hagrid stomped towards here with a delicate teacup filled to the brim. Anya looked at him gratefully as she took the cup.

"Thank you. Okay, so, I guess this story actually starts with my parents. My mother, whom I think you knew, was born in Southern Italy in a small town. Her parents were both muggles, and I think they were terrified of her. When she turned eleven, she told me she received an owl and letter from a school. Liceo delle streghe." Her Italian was flawless, though her normal speaking voice was an odd combination of American and Italian. "I guess it's like your school, but in Italy. So she went, and graduated, and she was doing some kind of research on American Indian magic, so she came to America. She was brilliant, you know. Anyways, she came to America, and she was visiting the Comanche Reservation. My tribe.

"My tribe is known for it's ability to fight- the most vicious, war ravaging tribe ever. The Comanche tribe also has a myth about the Warrior.

"The Warrior myth basically says that there is a Warrior for every generation. The bloodline is only through the Chief, and the Warrior is both blessed and cursed. The Warrior is blessed with the ability to protect his brothers- it can take the form of a bloodthirsty wolf, a protective mother cougar, and a vengeful human. The Warrior is half human, but can summon the Ancient Ones in times of need. The Ancient Ones are the Spirits of our ancestors, the Warriors of the Sky. But, the Warrior is also cursed with many burdens. The Warrior could easily massacre families in a bout of anger, or frustration. The Warrior is cursed with the thirst of blood, and the need for isolation. The Warrior spends most of their time alone in the forests.

"So, apparently, my dad was a Warrior. He was next in line to be chief, and as soon as he saw my mom, he knew she was different. They fell in love and got married, and had me. He was chosen to be chief, and you were there at the ceremony. You knew my mother, and you came to support the joining of the two magical races."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement.

"When I was little, I didn't show any signs of being magic, and I thought it had overstepped me by the time I turned 13. But one night, after a Pow Wow, I was returning home late by myself. A pale face man tried to take me, and-" Her voice caught, reliving the memory. "And I killed him. I turned into the Wolf and I ripped him apart. And when I turned back into a human, I somehow turned the man to dust, using only my mind. I was terrified. I told my parents straight away, and they were ecstatic. I had both of their genes; I was going to be unstoppable. We were going to be unstoppable.

"But it was ruined. I trained with them for four years after that night. I trained with them, my grandfather, and with my mother's friends that would visit her. We had discussed the coming of Voldemort a few times- I didn't think it was a big deal, because it was here, in Europe. He would have been fucking insane to come to America.

"Turns out he was fucking insane. I guess my parents were a lot more powerful than I originally thought. I guess that they were a threat, or something. I don't know. It was in June. I didn't have many friends my age, because they were human and I was a Warrior Witch half-breed. But that one night, I went down to the river with my classmates. I knew they were wary of me, especially because my mother was a pale face. They knew of my bloodline, and they spoke in rumors behind my back. But, I went anyways.

"I was at the river for a few hours. I swam and jumped, and I tried to make friends. I only really got along with the thoughtful, quiet ones. The rejects. But, that night at the river, there were many more than just the rejects. The loud ones were there, too. They were very loud, and I wasn't paying attention, it took me a few minutes to hear the sirens. I thought that maybe someone's barbeque caught on fire, but something didn't feel right. Something was wrong.

"I sprinted home. I sprinted as fast as I could in cougar form. When I got there, I saw my house on fire. I knew they were dead, even before the firefighters brought out their charred bodies. I was still in cougar form, shocked in the woods, when I saw him leave. I saw that horrible man, the bald man in the black robes. He walked away laughing, thinking he had won. A man was with him- long, blonde hair and vicious evil eyes. Lucius Malfoy." The professors' eyes glittered as they shown with recognition. "I have been on the hunt, since that day. I prayed for vengeance and skill, and since then I have disguised myself using magic, and then attacked and killed and spilled their blood. They think that they wiped out two magically powerful bloodlines, but they are wrong. They will come to regret the day that they stepped foot inside the Comanche Reservation. They will pay."

Anya didn't realize she was crying until she felt the hot tears running onto her neck.

"Join us," Dumbledore offered.

"Join us, and make them pay," Minerva added, surprising herself.

"I don't really work well with others." Anya said. "I'm a bit of a lone wolf." Her eyes glinted at her own joke, turning maroon.

"You're a brave woman," Hagrid said quietly. "You could save a lot of witches and wizards."

Anya turned to him, studying him. She looked down at her legs, moving the shirt to reveal bruises and cuts, a few in the process of healing. She was sure her face was in the same shape. She sighed.

"Alright, I'm in."


	5. Chapter 5

The night before Harry's trial was a night of nerves and forced relaxation. It was about 8 in the evening following dinner and everyone was in the kitchen, mostly silent. The atmosphere was buzzing with anxiety when they heard the door open. All eyes were on the doorway to the kitchen.

Dumbledore walked in first, followed by Minerva, and Anya stayed hidden behind them both.

"Mr. Wood, I am glad to see you have arrived safely."

"Thank you, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded in response. Minerva nodded at Molly who was frozen in her spot.

"I want to introduce you to the newest member of the Order," Dumbledore began. He moved out of the way and beckoned for Anya to move forward.

She stepped forward into the light and looked back at the crowd. Her dark brown hair tumbled down to her waist in waves and her eyes were maroon, the only way her nerves were revealed. Her skin was smooth, but cut. She had the remnants of a cut below her eyes, and her bottom lip was split. She wore all black, new clothes- leather pants, a long sleeved black shirt, and black boots laced up to the knee. She was terrifyingly beautiful. Her arms were crossed, and she itched to draw out her knives. The room was absolutely silent.

Harry looked at her pensively, Hermione looked shock, and Ron stood with his mouth wide open. Fred and George glanced at each other knowingly. Ginny looked like she was going to faint. Molly and Arthur looked at her almost in fear. Oliver looked at her and his expression was undecipherable. Remus and Sirius looked at her with slight amusement. Remus was the first to step forward.

"Welcome to the Order," Remus exclaimed. He walked up to her, and she stuck her chin up in defiance.

"Thank you," She replied stiffly, inspecting him.

"What's your name, pup?" He joked, already seeing in her the same instability he dealt with. She growled at him under her breath.

"Anya." She tried to control her rage. Minerva looked at her, concerned. "And yours, brother?"

"Remus Lupin, at your service."

The crowd was silent, trying to figure out what was going on. Anya steadied her breathing, her eyes still flashing maroon. The red shade was haunting.

"Are you the one who killed all those Death Eaters?" Harry asked. Anya studied him. She flew over to him, and touched his scar. She transferred to him a vision of her slitting the throats of the men. The rest of the crowd stood on edge. "So that's a yes."

Anya nodded, still studying his face up close.

"How did you do that? Transfer the memory? Without a wand?"

"Harry Potter," She began, the room now trying to decipher her American-Italian accent. "I am different than you. I am not a wizard or an animangus," She looked pointedly at Sirius. "Or a werewolf." She grinned at Remus who grinned back. She turned and walked back to Dumbledore and Minerva.

"What are you, then?" Hermione's small voice rang out.

"Scary," Anya remarked, with a smirk playing on her features.

The crowd dared not to disagree. Dumbledore continued to act like this was all perfectly normal.

"Molly, dear. Do you have any tea on hand?" He asked, and Molly nodded, turning to fetch it. "Ginny, why don't you show Anya to her room?"

Ginny looked absolutely terrified. She nodded.

"This way," Her voice shakily rang out. Anya followed her, grabbing her small bag. They walked up this stairs, and both were silent.

"Here's your room," Ginny said, opening a door near her room. The room was small, and had dark green walls. There was a bed against the wall, and a black dresser and a matching desk sat facing it. Anya walked over, her feet not making any noise on the carpet floor. She set her bag down, and turned to face her.

"What's your name, little one?" Anya asked, a little bit softer than she had earlier.

"Ginny."

"Ginny," Anya repeated, letting it fall off of her tongue. The room grew silent, and Ginny turned to leave. "Ginny?" She turned back around. "Harry Potter likes you."

Ginny's face lit up with surprise and confusion.

"Did you read that in his mind?"

"No. I read that on his body."

Ginny recalled the way Harry had shielded her when Anya had been introduced. Ginny blushed wildly and a small smile began to form on her face. She walked out of the room, closing it behind her. Anya fell back onto the bed, enjoying the soft, manmade material. It had been months since she had a soft bed to sleep on. She was asleep before she hit the pillow, not bothering to change out of her clothes. As she slept in the room, her body was able to relax, and by the time she woke up the next morning, she was fractionally more human than the day before.


End file.
